


Deep Waters

by IsMiseCeltic



Series: Where it All Began [3]
Category: Sherl - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bottom!Lock, Finally together, John Loves Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, Just the Three of US, M/M, Marriage?, Mycroft Has A Nickname, Mycroft Loves Sherlock, Parent!lock, Sex, Sherlock Loves John, Sherlock loves Rosie, Top!lock, Watson-Holmes, all the sex, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9932759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsMiseCeltic/pseuds/IsMiseCeltic
Summary: Months after saving John from Eurus, Sherlock is still learning to deal with all the changes he finds in himself. He and John are together but their life never seems to be completely without difficulty. The difference now is Sherlock is learning to lean on others for support and help. Even help from Mycroft.





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This story picks up a couple of months after TFP. If the Holmes boys seem a bit OOC it's because I see them as having changed a bit after their experience with Eurus and Sherlock regaining his memories of Redbeard. Mycroft has even said that Sherlock was an emotional child. I also think that love awakens things in us we didn't know we had and brings to life things that we didn't before posses.
> 
> This is the third story in this series. If you haven't read the other two you might go back and give them a read if you want to know how Sherlock and John came to be together. Thanks for reading! If you enjoy the story drop me a note and let me know what you liked.

**Deep Waters**

 

Somewhere deep inside himself, Sherlock always knew he was dreaming but he couldn’t ever force himself to wake until the dream had run its course. It was always the same. Jumbled images and sounds…

 

_The sound of pouring water filling his ears._

_*****_

_Eurus’ voice echoing from a distance, “Deep waters, Sherlock, all your life, in all your dreams. Deep waters.”_

_*****_

_His own voice, “I will find you. I AM finding you!”_

_*****_

_Eurus again, “I that am lost, oh who will find me? Deep down below the old beech tree Help succour me now the east winds blow Sixteen by six, brother, and under we go!”_

_*****_

_Mycroft’s voice, “The roads we walk have demons beneath, and yours have been waiting for a very long time.”_

_*****_

_John in the well and the terror of the possibility of losing him forever._

*****

It was that last piece of the dream that always made Sherlock bolt upright in his bed, calling out John’s name. In the darkness, Sherlock would feel John’s hands reach out and softly touch his sweat-slick skin so Sherlock would know he was there. Then John would take Sherlock in his strong arms and soothe away the fear that gnawed at him in the dark.

These nights always went the same way. Sherlock would wake screaming and John would hold him while Sherlock played the same scene in his head over and over…

_Eurus finally relenting and agreeing to help Sherlock save John. Getting to the well with a lantern and a rope, desperately looking for something to anchor it to. Lowering himself into the well and praying to every god there ever was that John was ok. Finally reaching the bottom to find John shaking violently from the freezing cold water that was almost up to his chin. Grabbing John tightly around the waist and John, barely conscious, encircling Sherlock’s neck with his arms._

_Sherlock whispering reassurances softly in John’s ear. Words of love and comfort, promises of help coming and warm, dry blankets, and hot tea. Every once in a while, kissing John on the cheek or neck or ear. Not understanding the need, only knowing it was there. Feeling the seconds stretch into minutes that felt like hours just waiting for someone to come pull them out of the icy water that was also Victor’s grave._

After the nightmare, it always took several very long minutes for the demons to retreat and Sherlock’s breathing to steady and slow. He would cling to John for dear life, to find comfort there but also to reassure himself that John was safe and there with him.

Those nights were particularly hard for John who was having difficulty adjusting to the new Sherlock. The Sherlock who _felt_ things. He had never seen Sherlock afraid before. Not truly afraid. He wasn’t sure how to help him through it. After weeks of almost nightly nightmares, John had convinced Sherlock to talk to Ella. She had diagnosed him with PTSD. A diagnosis at which Sherlock had scoffed but eventually had to admit, was probably accurate. She had suggested further counseling but Sherlock had refused outright.

It was John’s opinion that continuing to visit Eurus in Sherinford was not the best thing for Sherlock’s state of mind but Sherlock insisted that he owed it to her. He tried to keep his visits limited to once a month but sometimes he felt compelled to go more often. Mycroft was as concerned about these visits as John was but even Mycroft didn’t realize that the nightmares were always worse on the nights when Sherlock returned from the island. There was something about seeing Eurus that raked Sherlock raw. He would come home on edge and jumping at shadows. John would always try to take Sherlock’s mind off it before bed in hopes that would keep that nightmares at bay but this tactic rarely worked.

Sherlock was also, obviously, distressed by these dreams. He had analyzed them down to the smallest detail but still couldn’t manage to exercise himself of them. It was frustrating in the extreme to be unable to control his emotions after so many years of keeping them tightly locked away.

Now that he remembered what happened with Victor he could remember the conscious decision to not feel. Mycroft was absolutely correct, sentiment was a defect. If he didn’t feel, nothing could hurt him. He was successful at not being hurt for many years. Then came John.

Sherlock had known immediately that John was a rare specimen for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that John found Sherlock fascinating and not at all a freak. He liked that John was fearless, and noble, and kind. The fact that John was handsome was only a fleeting thought that bounced across Sherlock’s mind. John’s looks mattered not at all, Sherlock was just simply _drawn_ to him. He was surprised to discover that, in very short order, he wanted John around. Wanted him there very much. Too much. It put him at risk of being hurt again and he knew it but was in every way, helpless to change it. It was what it was.

This wanting John around is what lead to Sherlock asking him to come with him to investigate the “Pink Lady”. He didn’t really figure John would have much to offer, other than acting as a sounding board, but Sherlock wanted him there. As it turned out, John was an exceptionally fine sounding board who didn’t fail to notice Sherlock’s brilliance. Sherlock found himself wanting to say things that would cause John to remark, “remarkable” or “fantastic”, and realized he craved that appreciation and approval.

By the end of that first night, somewhere between John shooting a serial killer to protect Sherlock and Chinese dinner, Sherlock met John’s eyes and he knew he was in desperate trouble. John called him an idiot and they had smiled together. That’s all it took. In that moment, Sherlock felt his reality shift, only slightly, but somehow profoundly and he knew that he wanted John Watson by his side always.

It took him a little while to fully understand that what he was feeling for John was love. He wasn’t sure he had ever truly loved anyone in his life so he was quite unfamiliar with the emotion. If he had to pinpoint when he knew it was love, it was probably when he and Mycroft were working out plans for handling Moriarty. When Sherlock realized he would have to fake his own death and be gone, possibly for good, the thought of leaving John was like a knife in his wind pipe. The horror of the situation was so overwhelming he forgot himself at times and he inadvertently allowed Molly Hooper to see more than he had intended. She had seen him mourning the loss of John even before he was truly lost. Sloppy, that. But how does one deal with something so life shattering without it seeping out at times?

So much wasted time. So many years together but apart. It had only been a couple of months since they both finally confessed their feelings for each other. So many years lost to them and now Sherlock was a basket case of nightmares and near panic attacks. More wasted time…

John shifted and brushed a kiss across Sherlock’s cheek. Sherlock felt it from a great distance away and realized he had slipped into his mind palace and had allowed himself to become totally lost in memories. Slowly he brought himself back to the present and felt John’s warm arms around him still.

“I’m so sorry John, I must have slipped away. I was remembering the moment I fell in love with you. It’s one of my fondest memories.” Sherlock smiled against John’s neck and took a deep, ragged breath to steady himself, inhaling John’s scent. How he adored the way John smelled. “John, will you help me forget? Just for tonight. Help me forget everything but you?”

“I will do anything…be anything you need me to be. Tell me how to help you forget.”

“Make love to me. I need you to cover me with your body. Kiss me until I can’t think anymore and there’s no one left in the world but the two of us.”


	2. Make Me Forget

John felt the butterflies burst into flight in his stomach as Sherlock whispered his request. His warm, damp breath on John’s ear raised goosebumps over John’s entire body. There was a haunted sound to Sherlock’s voice that broke John’s heart. He wanted so badly to make this all go away. He wished he really could make Sherlock forget. 

John kissed Sherlock’s cheek again and then lightly pressed his lips to Sherlock’s. Sherlock’s hand moved up John’s chest and neck, rested along his jaw line and pulled John in for a deeper kiss. John shifted his weight toward Sherlock, his hand moving to Sherlock’s back to help him lie back on the bed. On the way down, John clicked on the bedside lamp. He knew how much Sherlock liked to be able to watch him when they made love. Now that the light was on, he could see the fear dancing behind Sherlock’s eyes. He had to figure out a way to drive that out once and for all. He couldn’t stand seeing Sherlock this way. Not his strong, fearless, graceful detective. 

Sherlock stretched out beneath John, and as always John was taken by how beautiful he was. In the months since their first time together Sherlock had put on some weight and was beginning to look a bit more healthy, except for the dark circles under his eyes. John paused briefly to remove his pants which he deposited on the floor without a thought. He slowly lowered his body onto Sherlock’s and made sure every part of his front that could be was touching Sherlock somewhere. Their lips met again, this time urgently. Sherlock opened his lips to John’s tongue and met it with his own. There was always electricity when they kissed or touched. It was quite extraordinary. In this moment Sherlock could feel that electricity popping along his skin. 

John’s hands moved upwards and found Sherlock’s. His fingers laced through Sherlock’s long, thin fingers and they both held tight. John moved his right hand until both his and Sherlock’s were under Sherlock’s neck which caused his head to tip back. John took full advantage of Sherlock’s exposed throat and ran his tongue over Sherlock’s Adam’s apple and up along his jawline. The slight saltiness of Sherlock’s skin was fantastic and the sounds he made as John’s tongue traced a line up to his ear made John tremble.

John started to rock his hips, moving his cock slowly up and down against Sherlock’s long shaft. It felt amazingly good. Sherlock’s breathing was coming in quick gasps now. Sherlock let go of John’s hands and wrapped his arms around John’s back, pulling him in tighter to himself. John moaned softly, reveling in the feel of Sherlock’s silky skin under his own.

“John,” Sherlock panted, “I need you…”

John reached over and pulled the lube out of the drawer and rubbed a good amount on himself then reached between them and rubbed some into Sherlock’s opening. He started to enter Sherlock with his fingers but Sherlock shook his head.

“No, no fingers. I want you. Start slow and I’ll be fine.”

John hesitated just a moment. They had never started without fingers to prepare the muscle. He was afraid of hurting Sherlock but then he met Sherlock’s eyes and saw the pleading there. John kissed him deeply one more time then lifted himself up so that he could guide himself in and be one with the man he loved.

John felt Sherlock tense just a bit as the head of his penis pushed in past the tight muscle of Sherlock’s opening. He stopped moving for a moment to allow Sherlock to adjust. He waited until Sherlock nodded his head, letting him know he was ready. John pushed in a bit more then pulled back slightly. He continued this rhythm until he had worked himself all the way in. He knew he needed to stay still for a bit and let Sherlock’s body relax but it was so difficult not to move when Sherlock was so warm and tight around him. John held his breath a couple of heartbeats and waited on Sherlock to start moving under him. Finally, Sherlock wrapped his long legs around John’s waist and started to slowly roll his hips. John’s breath caught and his eyes closed. Sherlock was an amazing top but he was a damn fine bottom too. The things he could do with his body were beyond anything John had ever felt and it was so far beyond anything he had even let himself hope for.

John started to thrust into Sherlock, matching the rhythm of Sherlock’s movements. Sherlock moaned loudly and bit John’s bottom lip. Hard!

“Oh, that’s how you want it eh?” John said smiling and thrust harder into Sherlock.

Sherlock moaned again and whispered, “Harder.”

John pulled back and slammed into Sherlock. 

“Again! Harder, John! You won’t hurt me. Please, fuck me harder”

John gave one more hard thrust then pulled out and pushed Sherlock’s hips so he would roll over onto his stomach. He straddled Sherlock’s legs and crammed himself back inside Sherlock’s body. Sherlock arched his back and John reached his hand around and caught him by the chin. He pulled Sherlock’s head back and to the side so he could crush his lips with a kiss. As their tongues explored each other’s mouths, John began to move again inside Sherlock. 

John released Sherlock’s face and held himself up on both hands as he began to drive his length as far into Sherlock’s body as he possibly could. Harder and faster until Sherlock was gasping for breath. Sherlock’s hips were rising from the bed to meet John’s thrusts and he was driving John crazy.

“Sherlock…I’m… I’m going…”

“Yes John! Yes, come. Give me your strength.”

John came in a blinding flash and felt himself fill Sherlock with hot liquid. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the sounds he was making but couldn’t find it in himself to care. When he was with Sherlock all his inhibitions just seemed to vanish. He was stripped bare for Sherlock to see and he wouldn’t change it for anything.

When the last spasms of John’s orgasm were fading and he was coming back to himself, Sherlock took his hand and guided it underneath him to his still raging erection. He started to pump himself with John’s hand but John stopped him.

“Sherlock, I want you now. I want you to come inside me. I need you to help me forget too.”


	3. The Lips He Loves Best in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short. But smutty. :-)

John pulled out and moved to the side so he could lie on his stomach. Sherlock straddled him the same way as John had just done and grabbed the lube.

“I want you to take me the same way. No fingers, just you. And don’t worry about pleasing me, use my body to take care of yourself. Let me be that thing that you lose yourself in and let all those bad things go.”

Sherlock started to push his throbbing cock into John. Because John bottomed more often, it was easier on John than it had been on Sherlock so he didn’t have to go quite as slowly. He pushed in all the way to the base and then convulsed as the sensation overtook him. He lowered himself so that he was lying flat on John’s back and wrapped his arms tightly around John’s shoulders. He sucked a deep red mark on the back of John’s neck as he started to lift his hips and then thrust downward. He did as John had asked, he totally lost himself in the movements of their bodies and in the sound their skin made when they met with force as Sherlock drove himself into John. For that moment in time, there was nothing but their naked bodies, joined and sweaty, and the almost bone crushing love that they felt for each other.

When Sherlock came, it raged through his body like boiling water. He tightened his grip on John’s shoulders and bit the side of his neck. John yelped and bucked his hips which sent another wave of sensation through Sherlock’s body. He buried his face in the back of John’s neck and whispered John’s name over and over while he rode the wave of his orgasm until the very last moment. 

Neither of them moved for a long while, not wanting to break the insulating bubble their lovemaking had created. As if they were both afraid that moving would make all the fear and pain and trauma rush back into the room. Finally, Sherlock moved to his side of the bed and pulled John to him and kissed him again. Kissed the lips that he loved better than anything else in the world. 


	4. A Brother's Concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the market should be a simple task but nothing at 221B is ever simple...

The next day started out common enough. It was a Saturday so John and Sherlock had slept in then had a leisurely breakfast while Rosie babbled noisily and threw raisins in Sherlock’s hair. He smiled lovingly at her and picked them out then pulled a funny face at her to make her laugh. John watched in amazement. He knew that Sherlock cared for Rosie but he never expected him to be so patient with all the craziness that comes with a baby.

“You really love her, don’t you Sherlock?”

“Of course I do John, she’s part of you.”

John could feel happy tears sting the backs of his eyes and blinked quickly to keep them from falling. He leaned over to softly kiss Sherlock and gasped quietly when Sherlock’s tongue traced his bottom lip. God, he loved it when Sherlock did that.

“Right, then,” John said, standing, “I best get to the market. We’re out of milk, as usual.”

“If you really must. I was going to suggest we spend the day in bed together but yes, milk is of utmost importance.” He flashed an evil grin at John then picked up the newspaper and hid behind it. John stood there for a moment trying to decide if he wanted to abandon the market but then realized Sherlock must have been joking because they had Rosie and it would be several hours before she would go down for her nap.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” John said, pretending to be indignant. He heard Sherlock chuckle behind the newspaper as he turned to walk out the door. “I love you, Sherlock Holmes,” he said as he turned the door knob.

“I love you too, John Hamish Watson. Hurry back, I’ll be waiting for you.”

After getting Rosie settled on the floor with her favorite toys and stuffed animals, Sherlock decided to check the website and see if they had any new cases. There wasn’t much going there except for one fellow who seemed almost desperate to get Sherlock’s attention. He despised those kinds of people. The ones who just wanted their names associated with someone “famous” however they managed to accomplish it. The man had emailed no less than 12 times and each one detailed a new problem. Sherlock rolled his eyes and snapped his laptop closed.

It was then that he checked the clock and realized it was Rosie’s nap time. It only took a split second for him to realize that meant John had been at the market for far too long. He dialed John’s mobile but it went straight to voicemail. He left a quick message asking John to check in then texted him for good measure. After another hour, Sherlock began to genuinely fear that something had happened. He walked downstairs to ask Mrs. Hudson if she would mind sitting with Rosie and then grabbed his coat and headed out to search for John.

The market where John did his shopping was only a couple of blocks away so Sherlock walked, thinking he could look for clues of John’s whereabouts as he did. As he walked the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach became stronger and settled there like a stone. He knew there was no way that John would be out this long without letting Sherlock know where he was. Not right now with Sherlock being so on edge. The only explanation was that something had happened.

Once he arrived at the market, confirmation that something had happened was swift and crushing. The clerk in the store had seen John argue with a woman with long dark hair, then get into a car with her and drive away. Sherlock felt as if he would pass out and had to steady himself with a hand on the wall. His breathing and heartrate elevated and he started to see exploding black spots. He knew he was having a panic attack but was having trouble getting it under control. He managed to ask the clerk for a bottle of water which she was able to hand him almost immediately and he gulped the cold liquid down as if his life depended on it. Finally, he started to breathe more normally and then his vision cleared. He paid for the water with the change in his pocket then exited the store. He knew he couldn’t do this alone so he retrieved his mobile from his pocket and dialed a number.

It rang twice, then, “Hello, Brother Mine, to what do I owe this pleasure? You don’t usually bother with weekend phone calls.”

“Mycroft,” Sherlock almost yelled into the phone, “John’s gone missing! I need your help to find him”

“Missing? What on earth do you mean missing?” Mycroft answered coolly.

“He left for the store early this morning then never came back. The store clerk said he got into a car with a woman with long, dark hair. Mycroft, Eurus has him again. She’ll never let him live a second time. Please, Mycroft I need your help.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Sherlock, it is an absolute impossibility that Eurus has left Sherinford again. I have taken every precaution.”

“That’s what you thought last time,” Sherlock said coldly.

“We’ve learned better how to handle her after the last time, little brother. Not to worry, Eurus is well in hand.”

“Would you just check on her? Just go out there and put your eyes on her and make sure she’s not been out?”

“Sherl…”

Sherlock interrupted him then, sobbing, “My, please. Please I’m begging you. I cannot live without John.”

Mycroft froze. Sherlock hadn’t called him My since before Redbeard. He’d almost forgotten that they had ever had a loving, brotherly relationship. Sherlock used to giggle madly and say things like “ _My, fly planes with me_ ,” or even more difficult to believe, there was a time when young Sherlock would say, “ _I love you, My_ ” before bed each night. Mycroft had almost forgotten what a sweet soul Sherlock had been before the trauma.

And then something else registered in Mycroft’s brain. “ _I cannot live without John_ ,” Sherlock had said while sobbing. Mycroft couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Sherlock cry.

“Oooh,” Mycroft breathed, realization spreading through him. Sherlock and John had finally spoken their feelings to one another. Judging by Sherlock’s sobs they had consummated the relationship as well. He knew better than to voice any of that out loud to Sherlock though, so instead he tried to make his voice soft as he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know… Of course, Sherlock. Of course, I will go to Sherinford and confirm that Eurus is still there. I will leave immediately. Would you like to come with me?”

Sherlock, relief flooding through him, thanked Mycroft but declined his invitation to join. He knew that he needed to stay close by, not just to keep investigating John’s disappearance but also for Rosie. With John gone, Sherlock was all she had and he would not let her down.

After finishing with Mycroft, Sherlock rang Lestrade. He thought perhaps a DI might be able to speed things along a bit. He knew he needed to see the security footage from the cameras inside the market and scolded himself for not thinking of that before Mycroft took off in a helicopter to Sherinford. Certainly, Mycroft could have provided video from every camera in a 10 mile radius. There was nothing to be done for it at the moment though so he concentrated on what he could do. Greg arrived within minutes with Anderson in tow and they began questioning anyone who had been near the market at the time John had been taken. A couple of hours later, just as Greg and Anderson were finishing up their questioning, Sherlock’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out quickly, hoping it was John but it was Mycroft.

“Mycroft, is she secure?”

“Calm down Sherlock, she is here and secure. As a matter of fact, she’s had a particularly bad couple of days and the doctors here thought it best to sedate her. She’s been sleeping since yesterday afternoon. I’ve double checked all the video surveillance and it does confirm what I’ve been told. Whomever has our Dr. Watson, it is not our sister. Try to relax a bit, hmm? I will be home in a few hours and we will get to the bottom of this. We will bring him home safely Sherlock, I will see to it.

“Thank you, My. I shall be out searching for John but I have my mobile with me. Ring me when you get back and we’ll meet up. Thanks again, your help is most appreciated.”

Mycroft heard the line disconnect and was grateful. He had had no idea how to answer Sherlock’s thank you. This new and kinder Sherlock was more evidence than Mycroft needed to prove that finding John Watson was a life or death proposition. Sherlock’s life or death.


	5. Confessions of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Mycroft try to find John

Sherlock found that having such a strong emotional attachment to the subject of a case made it difficult for him to maintain his usual cool logic. He was quite at a loss for what to do next. He stood on the street listening to Greg and Anderson discuss their findings and was unsurprised to hear that they had gleaned no real information from their questioning but, they assured Sherlock that they would continue to search. He shook both their hands, thanked them for their continued help and decided to go back to the flat to check on Rosie and Mrs. Hudson.

When he arrived at 221B there was a noted under the knocker. Sherlock’s stomach dropped all the way to his toes and his mouth went suddenly dry. He removed the note from the door with trembling fingers and opened the envelope.

“I HAVE JOHN WATSON. IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE HIM ALIVE AGAIN YOU’LL DO EXACTLY AS I SAY. I’LL EMAIL INSTRUCTIONS AT 8PM. BE READY.”

Sherlock’s eyes were drawn back to one thing, “ _if you ever want to see him alive again_ ”. God, how could this be happening again? How could he be facing losing John again? Sherlock slumped down on the top step with his back against the door. He knew there were tears streaming down his face but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. 

He could hear the sound of water somewhere in the back of his mind.

Some time later a large black car pulled up in front of 221B. Mycroft leapt out of the back and ran to the steps. Sherlock was still sitting there, arms around his knees, tears still wet on his face. He was unresponsive when Mycroft called his name which sent terror coursing through Mycroft’s veins like an bad drug. He placed a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, then checked his pulse. He was breathing but his heart rate seemed elevated. Mycroft feared the worst; that Sherlock had turned to drugs to cope with the possibility of losing John. The thought tore at Mycroft’s heart. He loved Sherlock so much and could not quantify how much he despised that Sherlock chose drugs as a way of escaping his problems.

Just as Mycroft was about to start shaking Sherlock to bring him around, Sherlock blinked his eyes and focused them on Mycroft’s face. He looked just like a child as he shouted, “Oh My, thank god you’re here. He left a note! I was in my Mind Palace trying to figure out who might have done this and what to do next. I have no idea who or why. What do we do? How do we get him back? God My, I had no idea what it was to love someone like this. It’s all encompassing and he’s gone now and I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Mycroft was so relieved Sherlock wasn’t using again he threw his arms around the younger man. Uncharacteristically, Sherlock accepted the hug and even returned it. They both needed the warmth and reassurance only a brother could give.

“Right,” said Mycroft, “let us find your lost love.”

That was the moment Sherlock realized he had just confessed to his brother that he was in love with John Watson. He never really thought Mycroft would be upset by it but he and John had wanted to keep it just between themselves (and Mrs. Hudson, of course) for a while longer. 

“My, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about John and me sooner. We were going to keep it just between us for a while longer. Just until it felt a little more real and stable. I wish it hadn’t slipped out like that. Ah well, needs must when the devil drives.”

“Don’t be daft Sherlock. I’ve known you were in love with John Watson since the night I met with him in the warehouse to attempt to bribe him for information. Why do you think I did that in the first place? I wanted to make sure he would be good to you.”

“How could you have? I didn’t know it myself until much later that night.”

“As always, Brother Mine, you see but you do not observe.” Mycroft ignored Sherlock’s exaggerated eye roll and said, “Now, where to start? Ah yes, you said he left a note. To which “he” were you referring? Dr. Watson or the mystery kidnapper? Because I thought you said John got in the car with a woman?”

“He did. They definitely said it was a woman but for some reason when I read the note, I thought he. It feels male. I don’t even know why. God My, this has me so off kilter I don’t even know which way is up right now.”

“It’s alright, Sherlock,” Mycroft said softly, “we’ll get him back. Come, let us begin.”

They went inside to check on Mrs. Hudson and Rosie. Rosie cooed at Sherlock and threw applesauce at Mycroft. Mycroft jumped out of the way in the nick of time and faked a smile. He did a poor job of it and looked more constipated than amused. Sherlock couldn’t help but smile and whisper “Good girl, Rosie” in her ear. He kissed her on the top of the head and the two men headed up the stairs to wait for the email to appear at the appointed time.


	6. Chapter 6

It was now 7:55pm. Sherlock was sitting in his chair with his eyes closed and his hands steepled beneath his chin. Mycroft was standing perfectly still at the window, watching the world laid out below them. It was beginning to rain.

At precisely 8pm Sherlock’s computer alerted him that he had received an email. Both men rushed to the screen and read it together.

**There is a man and woman who live in a flat on the ground floor. It’s just the 2 of them and their dog. The dog is large and barks at everyone he does no know well. One day the wife is murdered and the husband is distraught as he describes the crime to police. He explains that they heard the window on the backdoor break then a man in a mask entered and killed his wife. Upon investigation, the window is indeed shattered. There are no fingerprints other than the couple’s anywhere in the house and there is no further evidence. The neighbors who were interviewed said they did not hear or see anything at all that night. That, in fact, it was completely silent all night long. Who killed the wife, Sherlock? You have 4 hours to solve this case.**

**E**

Sherlock and Mycroft straightened and looked at one another incredulously. Finally, Sherlock sniffed loudly and said, “What’s he playing at?”

“I haven’t a clue but I don’t think it will take either of us 4 hours to solve _this_ case,” Mycroft answered with a smirk.

It took the brothers approximately 4.5 seconds to work out that the husband was, in fact, the murderer. Sherlock clicked reply on the kidnapper’s email and typed:

**Husband is murderer. Dog not barking gave it away. If had been a stranger, neighbors would have heard dog. – SH**

Then they waited for a reply. After a long silence, Mycroft stirred and said, “Sherlock? Does this feel somewhat familiar to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Think back. The first time you dealt with Moriarty? Remember? He had you solve a puzzle then would give you another. Doesn’t this feel similar to that? Only with someone remarkably less intelligent?”

“Yes, Mycroft. I think you may just be right about that. Now, who would do such a ridiculous thing?”

Mycroft was reflecting on the fact that Sherlock had returned to using his full name. A mark in his favor actually. It proved that once he was back in his element, solving crimes, his mind reengaged and he was able to control his emotions. Mycroft was very happy to see it, indeed.

As Mycroft mulled this over, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flurry of activity from Sherlock. “What is it Sherlock?” Mycroft asked excitedly.

“I just remembered, I’ve been getting these emails from this one lunatic fan. He’s been trying for weeks to get my attention with one silly case or another. Surely it couldn’t be him? Every one of his emails has been so pedestrian. I never would have thought for a moment that he’d be smart enough to come up with this. Of course, apart from kidnapping John, he’s not shown a great deal of intelligence. Here, all his emails are in my junk email file.”

Mycroft began reading the emails one by one until he happened upon one that caught his attention. Not because it was a fascinating case but because the man had been watching his neighbors from his flat window and had attached photos.

“Sherlock! He’s sent a picture that he says was taken from outside his flat! We should be able to figure out where the flat is then from that, suss out who this man is.”

“Mycroft! You’re a bloody genius! Yes, I’ll print copies of the photo and give it to my homeless network. We should be able to figure out who he is in the time it takes him to send his next puzzle!”

Sherlock printed several copies of the photo then grabbed his coat and ran out the door shouting to Mycroft over his shoulder, “I’ll ring you when I know something My, thanks again!”

Mycroft smiled at that. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for sentiment to play a small part in their relationship.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock returned to the flat after about an hour, having passed out all of the printed photos to his homeless network. As he was removing his coat and scarf he heard his computer alert for another email. He raced to the laptop and skimmed the email not even paying attention to the ridiculous case laid out for him. All he needed to know was how much time they had. Apparently, the kidnapper thought this case was a bit more difficult because he gave 8 hours for it to be solved. Sherlock read through it again just to make sure the case was another easy solve. It was so he left it there and texted Mycroft.

_“Any news?”_

_“Nothing yet Sherlock, I’ll call you when I know something.”_

_“Thanks, My.”_

Having just typed out the nickname, Sherlock realized for the first time that he had been calling Mycroft that all day. Strange, that. He hadn’t even remembered that Mycroft had ever had a nickname until it came out of his mouth earlier. It brought back fond memories that had been long lost and it made Sherlock’s heart ache. Perhaps when this was over he and Mycroft could repair their relationship a bit.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Sherlock’s phone vibrated. It was one of his homeless network with information…

_“Flat is on Tottenham Court Rd, 10 minutes from you. Saw no movement but lights are on.”_

“Brilliant!” Sherlock shouted and jumped in the air. He grabbed his coat and scarf and started to dial Mycroft as he ran down the stairs to hail a cab. Ten minutes later he was standing just down the street from the flat where the photo had been taken. It was still raining a bit and was a very dark night so Sherlock was able to hide in the shadows whilst he awaited Mycroft’s arrival. He had also phoned Lestrade, who should be along any moment.

While he waited, Sherlock prayed for any sign of John. Any small thing that would let him know John was ok. He had already killed once to make sure John was safe and happy, he would not hesitate to do it again. If this man had harmed John in any way, not even God himself could save him from Sherlock’s wrath.

Sherlock had been watching for about 10 minutes when he finally saw something move in the window. His breath caught and he tiptoed forward to try to get a better look. Through the window, he could just make out John’s brightest colored jumper. Relief flooded him so violently he almost lost his balance. John was ok…he hadn’t been hurt…he was going to get him back…

A few moments later Mycroft arrived, followed shortly by Greg and Anderson. Sherlock had asked Greg not to bring a whole team of officers because he was afraid something would go wrong and John would be caught in the crossfire. His idea was to have Anderson buy a pizza on the way over and knock on the door, pretending to be a pizza delivery man who had the wrong address.

The smell of the pizza made Sherlock’s stomach rumble, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning. Damn John and his insistence that Sherlock eat every meal. It was making him soft. They would have to have words about that once John was safely home.

The men formed a tight circle to discuss the plan one more time. It was decided that Anderson would knock and, if the kidnapper opened the door, the other men would rush in and overwhelm him. They all gave each other a reassuring nod and turned to look at the window once again.

“Here we go,” Sherlock said with a heavy sigh. “Good luck, boys.”

Everyone nodded then started quietly making their way closer to the building where John was being held. They crept up the stairs in a line and then Sherlock, Mycroft, and Greg hid down the hall in the shadows while Anderson readied himself to knock on the door.

Anderson rapped on the door with his knuckles then waited. After a few moments, he tried again. He waited a bit and was about to give up when he heard a tentative voice ask “Who’s there?”

“Pizza!” Anderson called in his best delivery man voice.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” answered the voice from behind the door.

“Must have done! The box has your address on it! At least open up so we can double check. Maybe you can help me figure out where it goes.”

There was another pause and then they all heard the locks on the door begin to turn. Just as the door began to open Greg and Anderson rushed in, followed immediately by Sherlock and Mycroft. The man at the door was knocked over backwards by the sudden entry and Greg jumped on him to make sure he couldn’t recover. As he held the man down Anderson kicked a pistol across the floor and clicked handcuffs into place.

Meanwhile, Sherlock was frantically calling for John. He was not in the main room as Sherlock had expected him to be. The longer he looked the more frantic his calls became. Finally, after several long seconds, John came walking out of the loo, drying his hands.

“Sherlock! I knew you would find me!” John said taking a step toward Sherlock.

Sherlock ran to John and threw his arms around him then, right there in front of Mycroft and the others, kissed him. He did not care who saw or what they thought. All he knew was his heart had been found and he would be able to live another day.

“Oh John, I was so scared. Did he hurt you? Do you need an ambulance?”

“God no! Sherlock I’m fine, really. This guy is a complete moron. He did have a gun though, which kept me from leaving or phoning but, other than that, I was under no real threat at all.

Greg turned to John and asked, “How did he even get you here? We were told you left with a woman.”

“Oh, I did! A young woman ran up to me claiming to be a former patient, even though I didn’t remember her, saying her husband was terribly ill and that he needed help. I tried to calm her down and get her to explain because the story seemed so farfetched but she kept yelling about her husband being sick and needing help so I figured it couldn’t hurt just to go with her and see after him. When we got to the apartment he pistol whipped me and, just before I lost consciousness, I saw her run like mad.”

John saw the look on Sherlock’s face and knew what he was thinking. “Shit, I forgot about being hit over the head. I’m sorry Sherlock, I wasn’t keeping it from you. Here, check it if you like.”

Sherlock spun John around so he could see then very gently examined the back of his. He did have a small bump and there was a little dried blood in his hair but overall, he seemed well enough. Sherlock leaned into John’s back and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Suddenly everyone in the room had something very important happening on their phone or somewhere else entirely. John had to smile at the reaction. No one was sure what to do when Sherlock showed emotion. Especially this kind. Ah, if they only knew…

After what seemed like a long time, Lestrade’s team showed up to take the kidnapper into custody and search his flat for evidence. Sherlock and John both had to go to the Yard to give statements and be questioned. Mycroft decided to join them, just for moral support. It took several hours but Greg finally told them they could go.

The three men walked out of the building together and a large black car pulled up in front. “This one is for the two of you,” Mycroft said with a smile.

Sherlock stepped closer to his older brother and put his arms around him. Mycroft looked as shocked as John felt but Sherlock didn’t seem to notice.

“Thank you, My. Thank you for your help, I shall never be able to repay your kindness.” And with that Sherlock kissed Mycroft on the cheek, turned and took John’s hand, and walked to the car.

Mycroft stood and watched the car pull away and smiled. Perhaps there really was something to this _family_ thing after all.


	8. Grandmothers and Wedding Chapels

The next morning Sherlock, Mycroft, and John met with Greg to hear the final results of the investigation.

“Turns out the guy’s name is Eugene Plotz and he’s been trying to get your attention for a while Sherlock. Had himself convinced he was a criminal mastermind like Moriarty. Delusional, he is.”

“That may be but he came dangerously close to accomplishing something that Moriarty wasn’t able to do,” Sherlock said with a sad, crooked smile.

John leaned forward and asked, “What d’you mean?”

“Simply, Moriarty was never able to break me but if Mr. Plotz had permanently taken you from me, he would have. Broken me.”

John reached up and traced Sherlock’s jawline and smiled lovingly at him. Sherlock returned the smile, took John’s hand in his, and kissed his palm. When they looked back at Greg he was giving particular attention to a spot on the table top. They grinned at each other and Sherlock cleared his throat to let Greg know it was safe to make eye contact again.

The group chatted a while longer and then everyone stood to leave. Sherlock and John shook Greg’s hand and thanked him for his help. As they started to walk away Sherlock noticed that Mycroft hung back a bit. He elbowed John in the ribs and directed him to the scene unfolding behind them.

Mycroft was rather awkwardly shaking hands with Greg and looking somewhat pink. Greg was saying something about meeting again and then Mycroft, to everyone’s shock answered, “It was lovely to see you again Greg, perhaps soon we could have coffee. Or dinner… Or…coffee. ahem… Right then. Let me know, won’t you?” And then he handed Greg his business card.

Sherlock’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at John who was smiling like a fool. “Apparently, things really are changing for the Holmes boys,” Sherlock said with a laugh.

Mycroft walked past Sherlock and John with a satisfied look on his face. “Oh, do grow up, you two. It’s not like you’ve never seen a man ask someone out on a date.”

Sherlock and John both stifled a giggle and followed Mycroft out of the building. When they arrived at Mycroft’s car, Mycroft turned to face them. “I want you to both know that you have my full support in whatever way you may need. Sherlock, I would prefer that you discontinue your visits to Eurus but, of course, I won’t demand it. However, if you could perhaps skip your next 2 visits…  I…wanted to do something special for the two of you…” Mycroft handed John a thick envelope and then kissed Sherlock on the cheek. “I love you, Brother Mine. Do take care of Dr. Watson, please. And John, welcome to the family.” Mycroft flashed a genuine smile at John and started to get into his car. “Oh, one more thing Sherlock. You should probably consider telling Mummy she’s a grandmother now. She will be most delighted, I assure you.” And then he climbed into the backseat and was gone.

“Grandmother! Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous John? John??” Sherlock turned to look and saw that John was thumbing through the contents of the envelope Mycroft had given him

“Oh, I don’t know Sherlock. Seeing what’s in here I’m thinking grandmother is appropriate.”

Sherlock, looking confused, took the envelope from John and removed its contents. It included car rental information, a map, lodging confirmations, and many touristy type brochures detailing things to do in the area surrounding Inverness, Scotland.

“I don’t understand John, what is all this?”

“I think this will explain it all,” John said, handing him a hand-written note.

 

_Dearest Sherlock,_

_I do hope you’ll accept this gift in the spirit it was given. I thought that after what you and John have been through these past months, a little time away would not be amiss. Enclosed, you will find everything you need for a 2-month holiday on the coast of Scotland. I was able to find a lovely, secluded cottage there for you that is far enough away from the city to be peaceful but near enough that there will be plenty to do and explore. Do please try to avoid murderers and thieves._

_Also, I couldn’t help but notice that there is a small wedding chapel nearby the cottage, in case you might be needing one…_

_If you accept this gift, I will be sure to make your apologies to Eurus and I will make sure that Mummy and Father are brought out to visit her in your stead._

_Give my best to Dr. Watson please and Sherlock, go and relax. You’ve earned it._

_Yours always,_

_My_

_P.S. There is a servant’s quarters in the back of the cottage. Should you decide to go, it will be fully stocked with everything you might possibly need for a toddler. I have taken the liberty of speaking with Mrs. Hudson who has agreed to go along to help care for Rosie._

 

“Wedding chapel? Ah... grandmother. I see…” Sherlock looked up at John questioningly. “Do you… would you… uh…?” Sherlock stammered.

“What?” said John looking surprised. “Married? You and me? Well, I haven’t been properly asked, have I?”

“Well no, but technically neither have I.”

“Ah, good point, that.” Answered John. “Perhaps we should take all this home and go through it to see what we’re actually dealing with.”

“Excellent idea, Dr. Watson. Shall we?” And he took John by the hand and hailed a cab.


	9. Chapter 9

It was already late afternoon by the time they got home so they ordered some takeaway and spread Mycroft’s gift out on the floor. John spent most of his time making sure Rosie didn’t shred any of the paper but in between wrestling matches, they were able to peruse everything Mycroft had given them. They were in agreement that the cottage was lovely and both would love to go. They very carefully avoided the elephant in the room and the little bit of information on the wedding chapel somehow managed to end up at the bottom of the pile with neither of them looking at it, at least not when the other could see.

After they had made the decision to accept Mycroft’s kind offer and had finished dinner, John and Sherlock both gave Rosie her bath. She played in the bubbles and Sherlock made a big unicorn horn on her head with shampoo. She reached up her pudgy hand and patted it and giggled which made both men laugh along with her. John leaned over to kiss Sherlock on the cheek.

“What was that for?” Sherlock asked with a shy smile.

“I was just overwhelmed by how much I love the way you love us,” John replied with a thick voice. He cleared his throat and they both looked back to Rosie who was in the middle of a huge yawn. John decided it must be bedtime so he rinsed her hair and got her out of the tub to dry.

“Can I put her to bed tonight, John?” Sherlock asked.

“Are you sure Sherlock? She squirms a bit when dressing her. It’s sort of like putting clothes on an octopus.”

“I’d like to try, if you don’t mind.”

“Then absolutely, you know where everything is right?” John asked and Sherlock nodded.

John kissed Rosie goodnight and handed her to Sherlock. Sherlock took her gingerly in his arms and whispered to her and she smiled. John’s heart melted at the sight.

“Rosie, can you blow daddy a kiss?” Rosie nodded her head and she and Sherlock both blew John kisses on their way out of the bathroom.

When Sherlock got to Rosie’s bedroom he was faced with is first childcare dilemma. How was he supposed to get her clothes together when he had an arm full of baby? He could put her down but then she’d just run off naked. Maybe he would put a fresh nappy on her first and then at least when she ran off, she’d be partially clothed.

As Sherlock started to try to wrestle a nappy onto the slippery, squirming child he began to quietly talk to her in a businesslike voice.

“Now Rosie, I’ve brought you up here alone so that I could have a short conversation with you about your daddy and me.” Rosie smiled and blew a raspberry. Sherlock ignored her and kept talking. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that things have changed a bit around here. Before, your daddy and I were just very good friends and we didn’t do things like kiss each other or say I love you. But something happened several months ago that changed all that and now we are in love.

“Of course, if I’m honest with you, I’ve always been in love with your daddy. Since the second night I knew him. He saved my life then he called me an idiot. Me! But then he smiled at me and my heart did this weird kind of dance and that was it. Now, you must understand, I’ve never been in love. I always thought it was just a silly waste of time. Your daddy didn’t give me any choice though. He just reached right in and stole my heart.” Sherlock had finally gotten Rosie’s nappy on and was digging her pajamas out of the drawer as he continued their conversation.

“Now, here’s where things get complicated. Uncle Mycroft is sending us away for holiday soon and apparently, there’s a wedding chapel nearby. I have to admit, I’ve been thinking about just such a thing since your daddy first told me he loved me. I thought it might be too soon though. So, I need to know what you think Rosie. Should I ask your daddy to marry me?”

Rosie looked at Sherlock then like she knew exactly what he was asking her and very clearly said, “Yes.”

Sherlock stopped to look at her. He had never really expected her to answer, he was just talking to Rosie because he knew he’d be able to voice out loud what had been bouncing around inside his skull. In truth, he had just wanted a few minutes to get his mind clear before being alone with John again.

He continued to attempt to dress the baby as she continued to try to crawl away on the bed but as he did so, he came to a decision. Rosie was right, even if she didn’t know to what she was agreeing. If they had learned anything in these last few months, it was that life was far too short not to take chances when they were offered.

Sherlock finally got Rosie dressed and in bed and he laid down beside her. As he did he looked around the room. “You know Rosie, we really need to make this a proper little girl’s room. Perhaps after our holiday we’ll buy you a little girl’s bed and paint the room a bright, happy color for you. This is your home too and I want you to be so very happy here,” he said and kissed her on the head again. Rosie snuggled into his chest, popped her thumb into her mouth and started to fall asleep. Sherlock stayed there with her for a long while, even after she was sleeping, just listening to her breathe. He had to smile to himself. Whoever would have thought he would find himself here, loved by a small child? And loving her back just as much? Life really was strange sometimes.

As Sherlock walked back into the sitting room, he could see John in his chair. He was wearing one of Sherlock’s silk dressing gowns and looking rather handsome while doing it. Sherlock walked over to John, smiled at him, and bent down to kiss is lips. While they kissed, Sherlock put his hand on John’s chest and rubbed the dressing gown lightly.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind Sherlock! I missed you while you were upstairs and this smelled like you…” John said, blushing.

“Of course, I don’t mind John, what’s mine is yours.

John smiled broadly and then said, “By the way, if you do ask, my answer will be yes.”

Sherlock froze halfway to sitting down in his chair and looked at John. “Ask? Ask what?” He was playing dumb because he knew what John was talking about, he just didn’t know how John knew.

“Ask me to marry you,” John said, then he glanced over to the table to his left. Sitting there was the small monitor that allowed them to hear everything going on in Rosie’s room. Sherlock cursed himself inside his head. How could he have forgotten about that bloody thing? “I’m sorry Sherlock, I should have turned the sound off but once I realized what you were talking about I just couldn’t make myself do it. I didn’t know that was when you fell in love with me. I knew it was early but you never told me the exact moment. It was so long ago. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize so much sooner. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through.”

Sherlock moved from his chair onto his knees in front of John, “Shhh, John. Please don’t apologize for anything. We didn’t have the most direct path to being together but everything that has happened has brought us here and here is an amazing place to be. Think about it, if we had done things differently we wouldn’t have Rosie and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.”

John kissed Sherlock then. A slow, deep kiss that made both men somewhat breathless. After a long while John sat back in his chair, cocked an eyebrow at Sherlock and said, “Well?”

“Well what?” Sherlock asked, confused.

“Are you going to ask or shall I be the one to do it? I mean, I don’t mind being the one to ask but you _are_ already on your knees so, you know, you might as well be the one.”

A radiant smile spread across Sherlock’s face then as he said, “John Hamish Watson, would you do me the honor of being my husband?” Sherlock saw tears well up in John’s eyes as he nodded his head. Sherlock threw his arms around John and peppered his face and neck with light kisses, then his lips settled on John’s and they were kissing passionately.

Sherlock climbed up and straddled John’s lap and continued to kiss him. He was always amazed by how hot John’s mouth was and by how wonderful he tasted. He always felt like nothing would ever be enough with John and he hoped it never would be. Sherlock’s hands traveled from John’s face down to his shoulders and he started to push the silk dressing gown down John’s arms.

“Sherlock…Rosie…” John said between kisses.

“She’s sleeping and that bloody monitor is on so we can hear if she gets up. Now stop talking and help me get my clothes off.”

“We need lube Sherlock.”

“Between the cushions. I put a bottle there a while ago, just in case.”

John smiled into Sherlock’s kiss and wrapped his arms tightly around Sherlock’s waist. He pulled him further into his lap so that Sherlock was now pressed against his growing erection. Sherlock lifted himself up slightly then lowered back down, making sure to rub his cock against John’s on the way down. John groaned softly then started frantically trying to pull Sherlocks shirt off. He finally pulled it free, exposing Sherlock’s beautiful, pale skin and leaned in to press his face to Sherlock’s chest.

“God, Sherlock. You smell so good. When I was being held, I wondered if I would ever be able to smell your smell again. I thought about that more than anything. Just how much I loved your warm skin and how much you have your own unique smell. I don’t know what I would do if I lost that. If I lost you.”

“You won’t lose me, not ever again. I will be yours until time itself passes away.”

Sherlock backed off of John’s lap so he could stand up and take off the rest of his clothes. John also stripped naked then resumed his seat in his chair. Sherlock knelt in front of John and took him into his mouth and took as much of John’s length as he could and then pulled back up. Just once. He just wanted to taste John for a moment but was much too desperate to have him inside himself to spend too much time there.

John fished the lube out from between the cushions and squeezed a good amount out into his hand. He waited a couple of beats to allow the gel to warm slightly then stroked himself until he was well coated.

Sherlock licked his lips as he watched. Seeing John touch himself was always almost too much but today it was even more so. Because they had both been a bit traumatized by the kidnapping, they hadn’t made love since John had been back. Now all that emotion was bubbling to the surface. Sherlock took a deep breath to steady and calm himself so he would have better control. He didn’t want to finish before he was ready.

When John had himself coated completely, he reached between Sherlock legs and rubbed some lube into his opening. His fingers moved in circles around the tight ring of muscle for a few moments then John slipped one inside. Sherlock’s breath caught and he rested his forehead on John’s shoulder. When John’s finger penetrated him, he got lightheaded and his vision went a bit wonky. God the things John could make him feel…

John moved his finger in circles for a few moments then added a second. Sherlock shuddered, exhaled loudly and then met John’s lips again. As they kissed, Sherlock began to move his hips up and down, fucking himself on John’s fingers. John was gasping with each movement and lifting his own hips in an effort to rub his cock against Sherlock as he moved.

Then suddenly Sherlock lifted himself all the way off of John’s fingers, shifted his hips forward, then lowered himself onto John’s throbbing erection. He closed his eyes as he slid down John’s length and savored the feel of it. It still amazed him that there was a time before John when he thought he would not enjoy this. But he also knew he probably wouldn’t enjoy it with anyone else. Having John make love to him like this wasn’t about have a dick in his ass. When they made love, it made them one person. It bonded them in a way nothing else in the whole world could. Being joined to John physically, in whatever way they chose at a particular moment, was the beginning and ending of life for Sherlock and he knew he would do anything to protect and cherish it.

As those thoughts rushed through his head he began to move his hips again. As he moved up and down John’s length, John laid back in his chair, hands on Sherlock’s hips helping him control the speed of the movement. Sherlock leaned forward over John and allowed his own painfully erect cock to rub on John’s stomach. John reached up and took the back of Sherlock’s head and pulled his ear to his mouth.

“That’s right Sherlock, fuck me. Fuck yourself on me. Make yourself come. I want to see it. I want to see your face in the moment and I want to watch your dick spasm when you come.” Sherlock moaned loudly and sat up. He increased his speed and threw back his head and made no effort to control the sounds he was making or the volume at which he was making them. “Yes, Sherlock. Faster…Yes, that’s it. Come for me, my love.”

The sound of John’s voice was more than Sherlock could bear. He dropped down hard once more and felt his orgasm rip through him. He shouted John’s name just as he came all over John’s stomach and chest.

John watched Sherlock with absolute wonder. How beautiful he was in that moment of pleasure. His cock dancing as he moved his hips then spasming just before he came. Just as Sherlock quieted, John’s orgasm exploded through him like fire. He grabbed Sherlock’s hips and thrust up into him as hard as he could.

Almost immediately after John finished and Sherlock bent to kiss him, they heard Mrs. Hudson at the door.

“OooHoo, boys? I heard yelling. Is everything ok?” and then without knocking she came into the flat.

Neither man even bothered moving. What was the point? They couldn’t cover up quickly enough to keep her from seeing. Mrs. Hudson looked at them and smiled, then quite to their surprise, she walked over and kissed them both on the cheek, first Sherlock then John.

“Well, that was quite a go, wasn’t it boys? Who needs a snack? I have a lovely banoffee pie downstairs. I’ll go cut you each a piece, shall I?" And with that she patted Sherlock on the bum and hurried out of the room.

Sherlock and John both burst out laughing. Neither man was even fully flaccid yet and both were covered in thick, white fluid and the woman didn’t bat an eye. No wonder they both adored her so much.

“I suppose we should dress before she comes back,” John said sheepishly.

“I suppose you’re right, John. Though now I wonder if there is anything she could walk in on that would cause her to pause. It makes me want to test it, you know, for science.” Sherlock giggled. “You know, we should call Mycroft and Greg over too. We can tell them all at the same time that we’ve decided to marry. Oh! I just assumed we would make use of the wedding chapel in Inverness but that may not be to your liking. Or perhaps that’s moving too fast.”

That last was said as a statement but it was definitely a question. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck and kissed him softly. “Not too fast at all, love. It can’t get here soon enough for me.” They smiled at each other then hurried to clean up and dress.


	10. Celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short...
> 
> Also, Mystrade??

By the time Mycroft arrived, Mrs. Hudson had a full blown buffet spread on the kitchen table. Mycroft’s eyes danced over all the sweets and Sherlock caught him licking his lips as he tried to decide which to sample first. A sudden wave of affection ran through Sherlock and he put his arm around Mycroft and kissed his cheek. Mycroft looked a bit flustered but smiled at Sherlock and patted his hand.

When Greg finally arrived, John clapped his hands together and said, “So, we’ve asked you all here to celebrate with us. Mycroft was kind enough to provide us with a holiday and we’ve decided that while we are away we are going to be married. Mrs. Hudson, you will already be there of course, but My and Greg, would you please do us the honor of attending as well?”

Sherlock didn’t react but couldn’t help but note that John had taken up Mycroft’s new nickname. He smiled warmly at his husband-to-be, then nodded at the small group gathered in their kitchen. “It wouldn’t be the same without the three of you. And of course, Molly Hooper as well. We’ll be inviting her later.”

“Well this definitely calls for celebration!” Greg said as he walked to the refrigerator. He gave a small jump when he opened the door and found there was a foot on a plate on the top shelf, then rummaged around for a moment. “Aha!” he said when he found what he was looking for.

When he emerged from the depths of the refrigerator he had a bottle of champagne in his hands and a huge smile on his face. John reached into the cabinet and pulled out glasses for everyone while Mycroft popped the cork. He poured everyone a glass then held his in the air. “To Sherlock and John! May the roof above never fall in; may we below never fall out.” Then leaning in to whisper in Sherlock’s ear Mycroft said, “I’m more happy for you than I can say.”

“I’m happy for you as well My,” Sherlock said with a smile and a nod toward Greg. “I hope things there are going as well as it appears.” Mycroft blushed a deep red then nodded his head and smiled. Sherlock grinned back, put his arm around Mycroft’s shoulders, then turned back towards the rest of the group.


	11. Holidays and Seminal Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock took the envelope from John with trembling fingers. He had no idea what he would find inside but something about John’s demeanor told him that this was a seminal moment. This was one of those moments that he would need to catalog and store safely in his mind palace. He took a deep, ragged breath then opened the envelope. The breath he was drawing caught in his throat when he saw what was inside and tears immediately flowed from his eyes.

Two weeks after the big announcement, they arrived in front of the cottage that would be their home for the next 2 months.  John and Sherlock unpacked the car while Mrs. Hudson took Rosie for a walk.

When the car was finally unpacked and Mrs. Hudson was back with Rosie, she set about making tea for them all while John and Sherlock played with Rosie on the floor. They were all tired from their trip but there was a wonderful, happy feel to the group and all smiled easily and often.

They spent the rest of the day slowly unpacking their bags and setting up their little home away from home. Mrs. Hudson made them a lovely dinner which they all ate together and then they all cleared the dishes and washed up.

When Rosie’s bedtime approached, John got up to see to her but Mrs. Hudson would have none of it. “Don’t you think for one second you’re going to care for a baby all night on your first night on holiday, John Watson! She will stay with me in the back house tonight and maybe all the other nights too. We’ll just have to see how it turns out.” And with that she gathered up Rosie and, singing her a sweet song, bustled out of the room to her own quarters.

John couldn’t help but smile. When he had found out that Mary was pregnant the only sadness he found in it was that neither he nor Mary had living parents so Rosie would never know what it was to have grandparents. Now he was realizing that wasn’t the case at all. Between Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock’s parents, Rosie would have the best grandparents in the world.

Sherlock noticed the small smile on John’s face as he watched Mrs. Hudson leaving the room and he knew exactly what John was thinking. “My mother is going to love her senseless when she gets here, you know? She had definitely given up any hope at all of being a grandmother. Even over the phone I could tell how excited she is to get here next week.”

“Oh! I’m glad you said that Sherlock. I have an early wedding gift for you, though you won’t be able to use it until after we’re married. Hold on a moment, I’ll go get it.” John stood to leave but Sherlock caught his hand and pulled him back for a slow kiss.

“I haven’t kissed you in hours John. I missed your lips terribly!”

John laughed and pecked Sherlock on the lips one more time. “Who knew you were such a sappy romantic?” He said lovingly, then turned to leave the room.

When John returned, he carried an envelope which he handed to Sherlock. “We haven’t talked about this at all and I don’t know if you’re even interested but it is something that I would really like if you are willing…”

Sherlock looked up at John with bewilderment in his eyes. “What is it, John?”

“Open it and see for yourself,” John answered.

Sherlock took the envelope from John with trembling fingers. He had no idea what he would find inside but something about John’s demeanor told him that this was a seminal moment. This was one of those moments that he would need to catalog and store safely in his mind palace. He took a deep, ragged breath then opened the envelope. The breath he was drawing caught in his throat when he saw what was inside and tears immediately flowed from his eyes.

The first word he saw, in bold letters at the top of the page, was the word **ADOPTION.**  As he skimmed the paperwork other words jumped out at him. Rosie’s name was there, listed as Child. John’s name was there, listed as Natural Parent. And Sherlock’s own name was there, listed as Adopting Parent. He looked up at John questioningly.

“Are you sure John? Are you really sure you want me to be Rosie’s parent? You know how I am. What if I don’t do it right?”

“Oh Sherlock. My love. All you have to do is love her and love me and everything else will work out just right. Is adopting her something you think you might be interested in? I will understand if it’s too much for you.”

Sherlock threw his arms around John’s neck and sobbed for several minutes. John was beginning to worry that he had pushed Sherlock too far and that he was seriously not ok but his sobs finally began to subside into jerky breaths. John stroked Sherlock’s curls as he composed himself, giving him the time he needed to deal with the situation.

“John, I never would have allowed myself to even dream that I could call Rosie my daughter. It’s more than I could ever have hoped for. Yes, without a doubt, I want to adopt her. As soon as possible! Tomorrow!”

“Whoa, hang on Sherlock. Let’s get married first, then we’ll take care of the adoption paperwork. Since Mary has passed and there are no living relatives on her side, it shouldn’t take long at all for everything to be official. Then we can change her name to Rosamund Mary Watson-Holmes.”

Sherlock, who had burst into tears again said, “You’re going to change her last name? Oh John, she really would be mine then, wouldn’t she?”

“She _is_ yours, love. This piece of paper won’t make her more so, it will only make it official in the eyes of everyone else.”

One last tear slipped from Sherlock’s eye. John kissed it away and wrapped his arms around the man he loved more than anyone else in the world.


End file.
